Forever Yours
by BuddhaBooty
Summary: G1: He awoke after four million years, remembering his spark's companion, his beautiful, betrothed lover. Now if only he could FIND him.


Forever Yours for WheeljackClub

Forever Yours for WheeljackFans.

I own nothing. This is kind of how things started. In the beginning of the war on Earth for the Transformers and why Jack and Ratch did what they did, which you sill soon find out.

It was dark. It was really dark. It was so dark that I thought I was blind.

Powering up my optic sensors, I found that the room was dark, but not pitch black. A small ray of light peeking though one of the ship's doors caught my attention and I hefted myself up to check it out, curiosity once again taking priority over logic.

Discovering that the source of the light was a barely functional light patch, I decided to check my chronometer to determine how long I had been in stasis. The answer not only surprised me, but also terrified me.

Four million years.

The crew of the ARK and I had been in stasis lock for four million years.

My mind flooded with questions. How long had the Decepticons been in stasis? Had they already conquered Cybertron? Did we lose the war? Was my lover safe?

My lover!

The thought spurred me to race faster than ever before, darting into the main control room to search for the bulky, ivory form of my beloved medic, Ratchet.

He and I had been lovers since we graduated together from the Cybertron Academy of Science and Health, or CASH for short. We had both enlisted our services in the Autobot army as soon as the war broke out, and though we have had our fair share of trouble, we never regretted our decision to help any way we could.

Until now.

Fear, panic, and other emotions untold and unnamed coursed through my circuitry as I tore through the room, digging through the ruble to search for the beautiful body of my lover, my betrothed Ratchet.

Ratchet and I had started dating shortly after meeting. I was assigned to him as his personal project. Since I was an inventor, it was a given that I would be needing constant repairs, and Ratchet, being one of the resident medic students, was assigned to keep me online and functional.

Of course, he wasn't supposed to fall for me, nor I for him.

I remembered the first time he asked me out. It was actually funny, since I was the crazy take the initiative guy. Ratchet had been fixing me up after a particularly nasty explosion when his hands stopped inside of me and began trembling.

I asked him if he was all right.

I will NEVER forget the look he gave me as he clenched his teeth, grinning audio to audio, the most tense, forced smile I had ever seen, and replied that he was quite well. He then asked if I was free on Friday. Following my reply of yes, he asked if I wanted to go to the new bar on Corundum Street. I said sure, and we went from there.

I was frantic by that point, digging through one limb-shaped item after another, my nervous processors screeching, 'He's dead! He's dead!' I saw a hand, crimson and tantalizing. Nervously I approached it.

My frightened manner reminded me of the first time we interfaced.

Ratchet hadn't been a virgin, but I was. For me, it was a big deal. Most Cybertronians had their first time with one of the elders, whose experience was unmatched. To be asked to be a mech's or femme's first time was considered an honor among honors, insinuating that you trusted that being with your first taste of maturity.

Ratchet had been so gentle, taking the time to caress every inch of my trembling body. I had been like a foghorn when he finally brought me to overload nearly half an hour later, not even caring for himself, allowing me to rest myself on his large, comforting chest as I cooled, softly stroking my head fins.

Tapping the fingertips, I pulled the hand back to find it connected to a long, graceful, white arm. Ratchet. He was there, but was he alive? I had to know.

By then, I was as jittery as when I proposed to Ratchet.

I had taken him out to dinner at the best restaurant in Iacon, a beautiful place with holographic walls and paintings done by the best artists of our time coating every inch of the refined palace, giving it a sense of inescapable elegance. I had asked the waiter to place the bonding ring in Ratchet's high grade, Cremtonica, if memory serves. He had smiled politely and hidden it well in one of the noodle-like pieces of wax that hung from the sides of the expensive drink, tasting bittersweet while the high grade left its pleasant burn.

When Ratchet found the ring, the look he gave me as he stared at the gem, a piece of my own spark, was nothing short of ecstasy. He had wanted this as much as I had.

The entire building had cheered when Ratchet, top graduate from CASH and medical protégé, accepted my offering and kissed me deeper than ever before.

We had promised to be together forever.

Sitting there, cradling Ratchet's still head in me terrified hands, I recalled how the war had made such things as bonding dangerous. We had decided to wait until after the war was over to bond. Then, I realized that we might not have ever gotten the chance.

A light groan tore me from my memories and I looked down to see electric blue optics staring up at me, a soft smile playing across the lips of the medic's relaxed face.

"Didn't I tell you that I'm forever yours?" he questioned, chuckling lightly at my shock.

"And I'm yours, Ratchet," I replied, joy seeping out of my tone.

Sighing, Ratchet uttered a short few words before drifting back into a light stasis, systems still repairing themselves.

"Forever mine, my Wheeljack."


End file.
